The Unedited Memoirs of Esius Balor
by Djehuty3
Summary: When Governor Acan of Ares IV asked for something to help with the local propoganda effort, this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind...
1. Chapter 1

My name is Brother-Captain Esius Balor, Space Marine of the Angels of Battle chapter, fifth company. I am two hundred years old, and I have been a soldier in the Emperor's crusade, in one form or another, since I was sixteen. Over the course of my military career, I have fought on hundreds of worlds, killed xenos, traitors and daemon-spawn without number, and been shot, stabbed, psychically assaulted, set on fire, doused in acid, and (on one memorable occasion) beaten over the head with a plascrete brick, all in the name of the God-Emperor of Mankind. This document you are reading is a recording of my memoirs, as requested by Governor Acan of Ares IV and demanded by Lord Rudianos, fifth company commander, for purposes of education.

It is also an utter and colossal waste of time. I am a space marine, not a holo' writer, and I have absolutely no interest in changing professions. However, apparently Ares IV is presently in vogue on the inner worlds. We are now a "symbol of all that is good and just in the Imperium", and we are to be held up as an example to the rest of the Emperor's subjects.

By way of my memoirs. Which, I am sure, will have the shit edited out of them before they are published for the masses of stupid, sweaty, ignorant civilians to read, thus giving me free reign to discuss the full stupidity of this entire exercise. The fact that I was selected is most likely due to the rather fractious state of my relationship with Lord Rudianos, at present. I was aware he was annoyed with me due to my actions on Colstadd, but the degree of punishment he has inflicted upon me seems entirely unmerited. Especially considering we did in fact kill that bloody psyker.

My complaints, however, will not remove the yoke of this punishment from my entirely-undeserving soldiers, so it might therefore be best to get this bloody thing over with. Then I can get on with more important things, like actually killing something.

Best to start at the beginning then.


	2. Interjection On Ares IV

The world of Ares IV is something of a paradox. According to its files in the Administratum, it has only been settled for a scant six hundred years, and has only had a space marine chapter for one hundred. Its Imperial Guard legions are officially only slightly older, having existed for two hundred and fifty years, and the local Convent of the Sisters of Battle is still officially in its infancy of twenty years. Should one ask similar questions of the locals, however, one gets very different answers. To them, the sisters and the Angels of Battle have called their world home for two thousand years, and the regiments of the Imperial Guard have recruited from amongst them for time immemorial.

In a way, both are correct. Roughly sixty years ago, several systems (Ares IV's included) were suddenly engulfed in a violent warp storm. While externally, little over a year passed, the worlds inside were subjected to two millennia of isolation and constant war. This led to a high degree of integration between the Imperial Guard, Sisters of Battle, and Space Marines stationed on that world. While originally the Angels would have recruited directly from the feral populace of Ares IV's second moon, Heracles, this was rendered impossible during the Warp Storm (called the Years of Exile by most Aresians), when it was destroyed by the Arch-Heretic Jeronimus Belphegor, a chaos sorcerer of considerable power. In search of a solution, the Chapter instead began recruiting from the Imperial Guard regiments, tying the two groups together in a most unusual fashion.

This occurrence is typical of the Aresian mindset. They are a hardy and pragmatic people, and while their dedication to the Emperor is beyond question (even after two millennia of separation from the Imperium, no serious deviation from tolerable levels was found in their society), they are not averse to bending rules to get the desired result. This has led to a certain degree of bad blood amongst them and the administratum, as it is usually their rules that are being bent. As of yet, however, this has yet to cause anything beyond mild friction.

Another interesting element of this society is the degree of cynical humour present in the Aresian mindset. The tendency to snark (as they refer to it) is so ingrained that on occasion last words must be edited to add some dignity and gravitas, as opposed to simply being funny. This trait is widely believed to stem from the Years of Exile, especially from the military elements local to the world. This is backed by it's widespread presence in the Imperial Guard and Angels of Battle, suggesting it is perhaps a coping mechanism for the stress they are routinely placed under that simply spread from there. The Angels would have absorbed it due to their recruitment policies, along with other guard rituals- the consumption of Bishamon-leaf tea, for instance, and the card game Commissar's Rounds. This, combined by the excessively widespread cultural focus on the military (almost every element of Aresian society can be traced, either directly or indirectly, to improving or assisting the world's military output), has led to a remarkably integrated culture. Most guardsmen have seen space marines on a regular basis, and have also most likely trained with them. There is an entire body of military law governing the interactions of both groups, as well as interactions with the sisters of battle (although notably less interaction, or perhaps cultural contamination, has occurred there).

Another example of Ares IV's martial focus is seen in one specific fragment of its culture; to wit, the carrying of swords. Aresians of almost every class, age, and gender are required to carry swords, as well as display a certain degree of proficiency with it. It is therefore one of very few worlds when annoying a bureaucrat can lead to having one's ear sliced off.

-Taken from "Ares IV: A Cultural Examination," by Arturas Voltus


End file.
